


Et Eärello Andorenna utúlien

by Nath



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-27
Updated: 2005-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nath/pseuds/Nath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Númenor: thoughts upon arrival and departure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ‘Et Eärello Andorenna utúlien…’

So this is it, our new home. I bend down and scoop up a handful of grey sand from the beach. As I stand up again and look back at the other ships coming in to the shore, I slowly let the sand trickle back to the ground from my hand.

It’s less than a month since this first fleet of the Edain set out from Lindon, and here we stand now, not just on a new shore, and the edge of a new land, but at the edge of a new life.

Three days ago, the Elf who steered this ship said she saw land in the West, and we were pleased to be nearing the end of the journey, anxious to reach this new land of ours, far away from the trials and sufferings of Ennor. None of us were truly sailors before we set out; and if truth be told, I believe those who found themselves afflicted by seasickness would have been anxious to reach any land at all, and would not have objected had we landed on the ruinous sides of Thangorodrim.

Círdan’s people in Lindon taught those who wished to learn how to build small boats after their fashion, and many of the people who dwelt at Sirion already knew how to handle such boats. Those who had clung to whatever high ground they had found in the slowly sinking remains of Beleriand during the war, before they ran out of still higher ground to escape to, and had to cross over to Lindon on whatever would float, were more than eager to learn this skill. I wonder how many, Man or Elf, survive thus even now?

Yet I’ve also seen a love of the sea for its own sake awaken in the eyes of some, and I regret this, for our purpose is not the journey, but the destination, and for myself I am relieved that the journey has not awoken my father’s and grandfather’s restlessness in me, as I had feared it might. No, the sea is no more to me than the road to our new home.

From this low shore I can no longer see Eärendil’s beacon that guided us, hidden now beyond the hills. Ah, father, you were called to abandon your people and thus serve them, but my responsibility lies here, on this island with my people, in staying, not in leaving – still, I too merely choose, or perhaps am chosen, to follow my own inclinations.

Some of the people had been worried about our provisions, fearing they would not be enough to last us until the first harvest. I was able to reassure them by telling them what Eönwë had told me; that there is plentiful game to be caught in Andor, and the sea around it is teeming with fish, and nuts and fruits already grow wild here, thanks to the care of the Eldar who prepared the island for our arrival. Even much of the city that is to be our capital has already been built for us by the Elves, and no doubt it will be well built and fair beyond imagination.

I am grateful for their care and that of the Valar, yet it galls me as well that everything has been prepared for us so thoroughly, for what challenge can there be for us in this new land? It is not that I wish our first winter to be as lean as some of the winters we survived before, or wish to see starving children again, and I am truly grateful beyond words to the Valar for this rich land. And yet … one day the people will become restless, and the pursuits of peace and prosperity will seem dreary, and this land will no longer be enough for them. That day is long removed, but it will inevitably come. Even my small gift of foresight can see that much; still, even the Valar cannot see all ends, good or ill.

There isn’t a man or woman aboard these ships who doesn’t come here with high hopes, grateful to the Valar for the gifts they have granted the Edain in return for our deeds and those of our forefathers. Yet we all also come as refugees from a land shattered by war, and there is pain, loss and regret in as large measures behind us as there is hope ahead. Not the least of the regret and loss is for those who chose to remain in Ennor, though many more will no doubt follow us here; and Círdan assured me that he would see to the building of ships and the guiding of those who may do so.

All that we own we carry with us, from the heirlooms of our forefathers, to the tools we need to build our future in this land. Even with all that has been prepared for us, what we make of the land and of ourselves is still up to us.

Whatever lies ahead though, tonight we will feast! At least if the stores of beer and wine survived the journey, for I am certain the care of the Valar does not extend to having a feast waiting for us here on the shore.


	2. ‘… Sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn’Ambar-metta.’

I can still see the shore of fair Númenor behind the last line of ships, its sands gleaming in the setting sun. The fleet is too slow. We need to move faster. But even if the rowers are beaten harder, there is no more speed in them. We need the wind. But this is how they fight us, these so-called Lords of the West, with wind and lightning and earthquakes, cowering behind their Eagles of clouds. What do they have left to fight us with, when they see that their strength is as nothing to us? Water? They will find that their clouds have no substance when they face the swords and the might of my host. Soon.  
I will end their reign of lies, and there shall be a reckoning. I will finish what Eärendil my ancestor failed to do, and perhaps even free him from his thraldom, or at the least avenge his captivity.

It is time to take what has been withheld from me and from the Men of the West. I will take back the life everlasting that is Man’s gift of old from he who these Valar fear so much that they betrayed and banished him, and commanded that his name be unspoken, and fooled us with their phantom Eru.

 _Man táre antáva nin Ilúvatar, Ilúvatar enyáre tar i tyel, íre Anarinya qeluva._ What will your Allfather give you, indeed! Nothing, unless you take it yourselves, fools! But the Elf-friends are not my concern now. Any that remain will be dealt with upon my return; as will their Elvish masters both West and East, for even Sauron the Mighty would not stand against me, and how then could the Elves, already driven to the brink of defeat by him?

And it will be the world of Man, as it should have been from the Beginning, and it will be mine to rule. Forever.

Wait! Is that the wind? Yes! Not enough to fill the sails yet, but it will get stronger before night falls. Now beware, Powers of the West, for your day is ending, and mine is dawning.


	3. Notes

**Chapter titles**  
The chapter titles are derived from Aragorn's coronation oath:

> ' _Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn'Ambar-metta._ '  
> And those were the words that Elendil spoke when he came up out of the Sea on the wings of the wind: 'Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.'  
> (pg. 1003-1004, LotR, Unwin paperback, 1983)

  
 _Endor_ is the Quenya word for Middle-earth; the Sindarin form is _Ennor_. _Andor_ in Quenya means 'the given land', i.e. Númenor.

 **Chapter 1**  
 _Elros' timeline_ (Elros' age indicated in brackets):

First Age 532: Elros born in the Havens of Sirion  
F.A. 538: destruction of the Havens and the Third Kinslaying (6)  
F.A. 542: Eärendil reaches Valinor (10)  
F.A. 545 – 587 or 550 – 597: War of Wrath (13 or 18; 55 or 65)  
First Age ends in 590 [?] (58)

Second Age 1: the Grey Havens are established  
S.A. 32: the Edain reach Númenor and Elros Tar-Minyatur becomes King (90)

Further events:  
S.A. 61: Vardamir, son of Elros born (119)  
S.A. 442: Elros dies after ruling Númenor for 410 years (500)

 _The destruction of Beleriand_  
The Silmarillion (pg. 303, HarperCollins paperback, 1999) mentions extensive damage, but gives no real answer to the question of how fast or how completely Beleriand sank:

> Thus an end was made of the power of Angband in the North, and the evil realm was brought to naught; and out of the deep prisons a multitude of slaves came forth beyond all hope into the light of day, and they looked upon a world that was changed. For so great was the fury of those adversaries that the northern regions of the western world were rent asunder, and the sea roared in through many chasms, and there was confusion and great noise; and rivers perished or found new paths, and the valleys were upheaved and the hills trod down; and Sirion was no more.

  
HoME is inconclusive as well. Various passages suggest that Tolkien (typically) never fully made up his mind one way or the other.

For the purpose of this story I have followed the interpretation of a slow process of submersion after the initial damage was done – also taking into account that the War of Wrath lasted 40 or 50 years in total - with many of the higher areas remaining above the water for a long time, maybe even until the Changing of the World at the fall of Númenor. Himring is still above the water at the end of the Third Age in any case.

 _Elvish ships and the craft of sailing_  
Unfinished Tales (pg. 171, HarperCollins paperback, 1993) says:

> […] that when the Edain first set sail upon the Great Sea, following the Star to Númenor, the Elvish ships that bore them were each steered and captained by one of the Eldar deputed by Círdan; and after the Elvish steersmen departed and took with them the most part of their ships it was long before the Númenóreans themselves ventured far to sea. But there were shipwrights among them who had been instructed by the Eldar; and by their own study and devices they improved their art until they dared to sail ever further into the deep waters.

  
 **Chapter 2**

 _Ar-Pharazôn's timeline_ (Ar-Pharazôn's age indicated in brackets):

Second Age 3118: Ar-Pharazôn born  
S.A. 3255 (137): Ar-Pharazôn the Golden seizes the sceptre  
S.A. 3261 (143): Ar-Pharazôn sets sail and lands at Umbar  
S.A. 3262 (144): Sauron is taken as prisoner to Númenor  
S.A. 3262 – 3310: Sauron seduces the King and corrupts the Númenóreans  
S.A. 3310 (192): Ar-Pharazôn begins the building of the great armament  
S.A. 3319 (201): Ar-Pharazôn assails Valinor. Downfall of Númenor.

 _Man táre antáva nin Ilúvatar, Ilúvatar enyáre tar i tyel, íre Anarinya qeluva?_ –  
What will the Father, O Father, give me in that day beyond the end when my Sun faileth?  
These Quenya lines are quoted from Fíriel's Song (HoME V, 72).  
Fíriel's Song is appropriate for this period in Númenorean history, though Ar-Pharazôn knowing it may be stretching things a teeny bit. Since it is a song of the Faithful and in a forbidden language, it is unlikely that anyone would sing it near him, though he might have heard it in his youth, when he was friendly with Amandil.

This chapter is mainly based on the _Akallabêth_ and HoME V, the _Lost Road_ , and owes some inspiration to the _Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth_ (in HoME X) as well.


End file.
